ACT I   SCENE XXV
COPHÔI

   SHE HAD ENOUGH.

Cassandra wanted it to end, she couldn't feel—her entire body was locked as if frozen in ice. The woman said something, about things happening for a reason, but she didn't care to listen. There was absolutely no good reason for everything that had happened up to that point. Was there even any meaning to their lives at all?

As if in answer to her silent question, gunshots broke out from outside the chamber. The woman whirled around, her pale face now devoid of all colour as a group of people burst through the doors. One of them tackled the woman to the ground, held his gun up and shot twice into her chest.

Someone pulled her back—Minho, she guessed, drawing her close to his body. The armed people shot barrages into the observation windows. There were screams and more blood. A man approached them; he looked worn despite his seemingly young age. He was speaking, but it was like she had lost her ability to grasp language. Cassandra saw his mouth open and close, his tongue forming consonants, his voice raising over the tumult—but she didn't understand a single damn word.

Then Minho was pulling her, running, and she moved her legs to follow. Her gaze swept around the room, at the broken glass and Chuck's lifeless body that would surely haunt her for the rest of her life. They went down a tunnel, up a flight of stairs, one after the other, then finally through a set of large glass doors and there was rain.

Everything was dark, even the sky above was a slate that poured down on them relentlessly. They were pushed onto a bus and she felt pressure in her ears. She saw Thomas being pulled back by a crazed woman, her eyes bloodshot and yellow pus oozing down her wrinkled face from large sores.

One of the men grabbed the stranger and threw her away, as if she was nothing but a piece of trash. Thomas hurriedly went on the bus and took a seat next to Teresa opposite them. Minho was holding her hand which was still shaking.

The deranged woman ran to the front of the bus, slapping her hands on its hood while the engines revved to life. Cassandra started as the bus lurched forwards, slamming into the woman and the wheels jolted upwards twice. The pressure in her ears popped and she could now hear the deluge tapping against the glass in full force. She took a shuddering breath before forcing herself to swallow. It felt like her entire throat was stuffed shut.

"She's been like this ever since Gally threw his knife," Minho was saying with a tremor in his voice.

"She's in shock," Thomas stated.

Teresa dropped to her knees in front of her and took her hands. She looked up with her big blue eyes filled with watery concern. "Cassandra?" she whispered. "It's okay now."

She merely stared back at the girl, wanting to respond but unable to do so. Her chest ached—it hurt so much like her heart had just been ripped out and her hands wouldn't stop trembling. Minho pulled her into his arms again, burying her head into his chest as he squeezed her tightly.

She closed her eyes, allowing his warmth to seep into her bones. The bus went over another bump and everything started to melt away but the screams continued to echo in her ears.

There were many instances when she woke up and stared out the window at the hazy rush of scenery. Buildings, most of them decrepit and burnt, and open fields of nothing flashed past her eyes. Images swam in her mind, of busy streets full of life and promise—then fading away to charred remnants of empty houses.

The glint of steel, and the grey mass of flesh.

She closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep again.

The bus finally came to a stop and Minho shook her awake, guiding her forward to step off the vehicle. They were led into a building; its paint peeling off in large chunks and a part of the ground floor had been smashed in. She shuffled up a flight of stairs with the others and into a huge dormitory. She smelled food—melted cheese—and the scent of lavender clung in the air. Bunk beds covered with red sheets lined the yellow walls, dressers and tables sat in a corner on the opposite side with curtains drawn across windows in bright lime green. It was garish.

"Cassie, look." Minho nudged her with a small snicker. "I think I just got shucked and went to heaven."

Men and women dressed in white shirts and black pants stepped forwards to greet them. They gave the Gladers clean clothes, toiletries and food. It was pizza. The cheesy slices stretched long strings from the pan before being devoured by their eager mouths.

She could taste it, register the flavours in her brain, and a wave of content washed over her as she satiated her hunger. Everyone was laughing as they momentarily forgot about what they had just gone through. Finally, her lips curved upwards into a small smile as well.

Minho watched her, the concern in his face melting away to relief and he squeezed her hand. She looked at him, communicating her gratefulness through her eyes alone, and she knew he understood.

When the food was gone, the attendants were ushering them to bed. They separated the girls from the boys, placing Cassandra and Teresa in another room on the other side of the common area. She didn't want to be away from the others but her voice hadn't returned yet.

The room they shared was identical to the one the boys had but smaller and without windows. There was a bathroom with running water and she took a shower. She missed letting the warm water run over her body, washing away the dirt and grime and blood. When she re-emerged into the room, she felt like she was born anew. Teresa went in after her and then they settled down, sharing a bunk bed with Cassandra on top.

The mattress was wonderfully soft and her sore muscles welcomed the reprieve. She closed her eyes, but couldn't sleep—couldn't stop thinking of Minho and the boys. After a while, she could hear Teresa calling her from the bottom bunk.

"Cass?" Her voice was soft and gentle, like a muted bell tinkling. "Are you asleep yet?"

She opened her mouth to reply, sucked in a deep breath and let it out, but no words accompanied it.

"I know it's hard," Teresa spoke into her mind instead. "But you're strong, Cass, I know you are."

It felt easier that way and for once, she was glad that she shared this connection with Teresa. The words flowed from her mind as if it was the most natural thing in the world and it comforted her.

"Thanks," she said tiredly. "I just wish...it all turned out differently."

"Me too." There was relief in her disembodied voice. "But we made it, at least. So did Tom and Minho."

There was a pause as Cassandra's chest started to ache again, but she managed to get her emotions under control this time.

"I wish they didn't separate us. I miss Minho."

"I miss Tom," the other girl confessed. "But they seem okay. I think Tom fell asleep, I can feel it."

She wished she could feel whether Minho was asleep and it almost made her laugh out loud. Teresa's presence made her feel safe, glad that they at least had each other—she couldn't imagine if she had to stay in this room on her own.

"We're okay..." Teresa paused, then added, "Right?"

"For now..." Cassandra closed her eyes again. "We're okay."

Silence settled over them for a brief moment, then Teresa's pretty voice whispered in her mind one more time.

"Cass?"

"Yeah?"

"Goodnight."

"G'night, Teresa. See you in the morning."

WICKED Memorandum, Date 232.1.27, Time 23: 05

TO: My Associates
FROM: Ava Paige, Chancelor
RE: SUBJECT C

Everything has gone according to plan, and it is a huge relief to find that the data collected proved our hypotheses. It is incredible, that the basis of our observations is the most basic of human nature that has been innate since the evolution of our species.

Stage 1 to Stage 3 Prophesy have been complete successes and I feel that we are on the verge of a breakthrough in discovering the answer to our question. The virus confined to Point Zero in Subject C has spread 4.5% and her symptoms are becoming more frequent. However, she still maintains complete lucidity unlike her counterpart who, unfortunately, had to be terminated early. Therefore, I believe that there is still hope yet. With the data provided, we will now be able to look into measures that may potentially isolate the virus.

Her interactions with Subject A7 have also been incredibly interesting—that their bond has been so rooted into their subconscious that it even slips through the Swipe.

This will be most valuable in the implementation of Stage 2. We can finally analyse our comparison samples: attachment, betrayal and grief.